


Heir Transparent

by apterousAvian



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apterousAvian/pseuds/apterousAvian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John could see that he was floating. He gasped, and as he noticed further, he could see the ground through his sneakers. He held his hands in front of his face, and could see the sky through them as well, completely transparent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heir Transparent

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been something I've been planning carefully for a while now, I'm really excited for what I can do with it!
> 
> Warnings for language and possibly errors I don't have a beta ;A;
> 
> Enjoy~

It is a brisk fall evening as a young man walks home from his local job just before sunset. John Egbert is sighing deeply as he admires the scenery, and the red-orange glow of the horizon. Today is his last day of work, as the fall semester of his sophomore year approaches on the following Monday. He smiles to himself, humming softly as he heads back to his college dorm.

He lives alone, in a double room, as his freshman roommate had dropped out on account of little to no motivation. He had opted to remain put when sophomore year rolled around, and school had obliged. Over the next few days people would be returning to the school, and moving into their new dorms. John enjoyed the buzz of the new semester; it was exhilarating! While his freshman year had been a rather clumsy climb of learning the ropes of the campus and meeting new people, this year he would understand his surroundings much better. 

He had made great friends since he’d arrived. Rose, a bit aloof, but she always gave John great advice and acted in his best interest. She also loved to knit, and John pulled his scarf a little closer to his neck, the light blue yarn she had picked. There was also Jade, who loved to try new things and often dragged John into various restaurants he had never heard of. She went home over every break though, as she came from the country, and missed her grandfather and dog. She had babbled to John for hours about how great she was at firearm competitions, which impressed John almost as much as it scared him. His only other close friend was Karkat, who was a rather cynical young man, but was very eloquent underneath the jabs and profanities. He was typically a shut-in, preferring to stay home and study. On occasion, John managed to get him to grab some coffee with him, or head downtown to see a movie. 

Feeling the wind rustle his hair, John suddenly felt like taking a detour from his normal route home. He made a left, and instead of heading for the student housing, he walked down by to the nearby park. The riverfront park was empty this late, and John took the main path through the park and down by the river. It was a small stream, only a foot or two deep, but the park had a bridge over it anyway. He walked to the center of the bridge and looked down into the black water. The wind blew again, and John felt the cold air rush past, rippling the water. When it cleared, John looked into his dull reflection on the water’s surface. His black hair is messy and wind-tossed, he notes, as he pushes his thick-rimmed glasses back up his nose. John loved spending time by himself just dreaming like this. He thought about how much he would get to learn over the next year, and how many new friends he might make. He thought about the future, and slowly but surely he turned away from the park and headed home.

Maybe it was John still being lost in his own thoughts, or maybe the driver had been driving too fast or too recklessly. But John walked out into the street, turned his head into the white lights, and everything went painfully black.

 

The following morning, a bus arrives on campus and a very tired Dave Strider steps off with his few things. He’d managed to shove all of his things into just a duffel bag and a backpack. He uses a free hand to brush back his sandy hair from his face, smoothing his face and adjusting his dark sunglasses.  
Ordinarily, Dave would put himself off as the coolest man on campus. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone around to show off for. It was relatively quiet, and the sky was overcast as he headed to the admissions office to pick up a key for his dorm. The desk clerk nodded at him curtly, welcoming him to the school, and then turned back to her work, clearly regarding him not worthy of her time. 

Dave wasn’t sure why he’d left his school in Texas. Sure, he liked the school well enough. Had studied the basics and taken up an interest in photography. But something just wasn't right about it. He felt like he was still stuck in his brother’s apartment, studying in a school that was only twenty miles from home. So he’d looked into it and found this Washington school, much further from home but with financial aid in hand it wasn’t much more expensive than where he had been. So at the end of the semester when he applied and was surprisingly accepted, he’d packed up and headed north. 

Dave looked over his campus map from behind his shades, looking for the dorm he’d landed himself in. He kept a straight face while he walked; the perfect air of nonchalance. Nobody bothered him as he let himself up to the third floor of the southernmost dormitory. As he approached the room number, 413, a couple of other guys looked at him warily. One of them cocked his head and spoke up.

“Hey man, what’re you doing?” he asked incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re the new guy they put up in this here room?” he continued in disbelief.

“Yeah, this is my room. What about it?” Dave countered, shrugging his shoulders.

“Dude you didn’t hear? About the guy you were ‘sposed to dorm with?” he asked again, and the constant questions were starting to piss Dave off. 

“Obviously not,” Dave replied calmly. “Just got up here myself this morning.”

“Kid who lived here ended up in some nasty car accident last night, or so I’ve heard. Some crazy fucker was going sixty-five in a residential area. Kid was just crossin’ the street and just went flying. It was all over the news,” the guy informed him sadly. “Dude, that room is definitely cursed. You must be fuckin’ bonkers to live in there.”

Dave considered this information for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip to keep himself from showing any fear in front of this guy. Too be honest, Dave wasn’t all that afraid.

“That’s horrible, but I really don’t think it’s got anything to do with me. Poor sap,” he mumbled, and turned away from the stranger to put his key in the lock. The other just went back to his friend, shuddering and heading downstairs to breakfast. 

The door to the dorm clicked open, and Dave felt a strange chill pass through him. He turned on the lights and saw that opposite side of the room was filled with things that obviously weren’t his. Dave set his bags down on the empty bed and took a moment to look around the rest of the room. There was an unmade bed, and a desk covered in what looked like biology papers from last semester. The floor was pretty clean; the guy had obviously been pretty organized. He picked up one of the papers and looked at the name. “John Egbert,” he mumbled, musing over the name. He shook his head a little. Cool kid or not, it was really uncomfortable knowing he would be bunking in a room where a kid had probably just died. He figured within the week that the family would come to collect the things from the dorm, and then hopefully all the bad omens would be discharged. He hoped.

 

John was certain he was dead. He couldn’t remember much, but he could recall the few seconds before he lost consciousness. The bright lights blinding his vision, the painful impact of the car hitting his ribcage, a woman screaming as she witnessed the event, frantically yelling at the emergency dispatcher. Then everything had gone dark and now…  
Where was he?

John opened his eyes and was aware that he was not in his own body. He wasn’t sure yet where he was, but as his vision cleared, he could see that he was floating. John gasped, and as he noticed further, he could see the ground through his sneakers. He held his hands in front of his face, and could see the sky through them as well, completely transparent.  
John screamed. His body shook violently as he looked below and saw the people below him overlooked him. He ran his hands through his hair, wondering if he was even still all there. He floated down closer to the ground and looked at the people walking by and none of them caught his eye. He ran out into the middle of the street and threw out his arms as an on-coming car approached the intersection. To his horror, the car drove right through him, and John felt nothing. 

John drifted off the ground again and his eyes watered over, and clear tears streaked down his face, but they vanished into the air once they left his face. Feeling miserable, he found himself heading back in the direction of his dorm. He noted his legs had disappeared while in the air, and in a fit of panic he landed on the roof of the dorm. He sighed with relief as they reformed beneath him as he stood on the ground. He sighed as he realized he’d have plenty of time to figure the perks of being a ghost.

John didn’t know what to do.

The obvious answer was to return to his dorm. He’d seen enough ghost movies to know that the ghost always tends to haunt places they remember. He hadn’t seriously believed that ghosts existed though, or rather if they did, that he wanted to be the ghost hunter, not the hunted.

John drifted through the window pane and sat on his desk, and there is another person in his room. The new roommate, he assumes, his back is turned to him. John inwardly sighs when he figures that this guy won’t be able to see him either. He seems nice enough.

Dave casually turns around to see a translucent stranger sitting on the dead kid’s desk. His eyes go wide behind the shades.

Dave screams.

John freaks out a bit because there must be something really frightening behind him. He turns his head just to make sure, but sees nothing.  
Can he… see me?

Dave is pressed flat against the wall and is amazed that no one has come running to help him yet. It’s not like the walls are soundproofed in the dorms. Very slowly he puts his hands up in front of his chest in a cross. 

“Whatdya want from me, man? I’m not touching your stuff. I’ve left everything right where you left it,” he finally asks in a shaky voice. 

An imaginary light bulb has just gone off over John’s head and his face breaks into a relieved, toothy grin.

“You can see me?” he asks.

Dave’s blood runs cold when the kid speaks to him. The ghost is fucking smiling at him like its Christmas or something and he just got everything he wanted. That cannot be good a thing. His voice is light, but somehow hollow, like a repeated echo. He swallows before answering.

“Yeah I see you.”

John lets out a relieved laugh. “Finally someone does. I’m dead, I think, and I was pretty sure I was invisible.”

Dave titters back. “Most ghosts are dead,” he clarifies. “So seriously, why are you here?”

“This is my room,” John replies quietly. “I don’t really know where else to go, and I’m not sure why I’m still here either,” he mumbles, wishing he knew more about what had happened to him.

“Then you’re John?” Dave clarifies.

“How did you…?” John trails off before remembering his papers all over his desk. “Oh, yes, I’m John. John Egbert, I guess I’m your ex-roommate?” he extends a hand for Dave to shake. 

Dave looks at the hand in disbelief. “What are you, Casper the friendly ghost?” he shakes his head in confusion.

“I’m Dave.” He finally breathes. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds like “This is fucking crazy…” but John doesn’t hear it. “How long do you plan to stay here, John?”

“Well…” John trails off, looking away and twiddling his thumbs. “I don’t know. I’m not sure why I’m still here. Isn’t it like a cliché that ghosts have to like pass on or something? And they have to complete some last living wish they had when they were living or something?” he thinks out loud. Suddenly he spins around causing a rush of wind throughout the room and Dave jumps back another foot.

“You must be a medium!” John exclaims at last. “That’s why you can see and hear me!” he laughs openly. “Do you normally see ghosts?” John asks again as he starts floating up toward the ceiling.

“Well of course, I just love chatting up the undead,” Dave replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes behind his shades. “So if I am a ‘medium’ or whatever, what does that matter to me? It’s still kinda freaking me out that I’m talking to a dead guy right now,” he insists, but John just laughs, and Dave catches the ring in the slightly hollowed voice. This ghost definitely wasn’t going to hurt him.

“It’d be nice if you’d just let me stay here. I mean, until I figure out whatever it is that’s keeping me bound here. I mean technically, I don’t need to eat or sleep or anything, and well, maybe we can be friends?” he suggests looking at Dave’s blank face.

“Well, you’re a ghost, so I physically can’t force you to leave anyway.” Dave shrugs. “I guess I can chill with a ghost in my room? I mean, since you were supposed to be living here anyway or something…” he trails off and John makes a shrill squeal of delight that sends shivers up Dave’s spine.

“Just... Don’t do that again, okay, that’s a little creepy,” he adds as his one condition. John claps his hands over his mouth and nods. 

Dave runs a hand through his hair and chuckles to himself. “I must be crazy…” he mutters as he starts unpacking his things.

John smiles from his corner on the ceiling. “You wouldn’t be the first.”


End file.
